


Island's Ours

by symbolcrash



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-24
Updated: 2007-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 05:32:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symbolcrash/pseuds/symbolcrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Feathers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Island's Ours

**Author's Note:**

> Um, no spoilers, I don't think, but it does take place right after the end scene in KH2. (Mickey couldn't stay. He is King, after all. :D)

We stayed together for two days. Two  _whole days,_ just the five of us, stretching our arms and legs against the warm breezes and cool island sprays, conveniently forgetting the destruction that had passed over our shoulders and the darkness that still lingered in our clothes.

It was sad when those two days came to an end, the King's gummi ship hovering over the water. I squinted my eyes against the sun as it began to set, a vibrant orange glow. “You guys are going to be back soon, right?”

“Gee, Sora, I don't know,” Goofy replied frankly. “Soon as we can, I expect.”

Riku stood beside me, swallowing hard. Then, he smiled too. “Don't forget us, okay?”

“What?!” Donald yelled, his bill wide in protest. “That's  _impossible!_  We could never forget -”

“Hey!” Kairi shouted, waving at us from the top of the beach. “Guys! I have an idea!” She waved to us, then disappeared through an enclosure of foliage at the top of the beach.

Riku, Donald, Goofy and I exchanged glances. “Er,” Goofy started, glancing over his shoulder at the two crewmen, who scampered about the hatchway. “D'we have time, fellas?”

“Go for it!” they squeaked.

I grinned. “Come on, I'll race you  _all_!”

 

***

 

We sat together, just the five of us, each of our hands interlaced with the hand of another, comfortable on the cool stone-and-dirt foundation of the Secret Place. We lay back a little, admiring our work. Where two heads once gathered around a paopu, there were now five, sharing it equally.

“This was a great idea, Kairi,” I said. Then, I turned to Donald. “I'm sorry I can't draw feathers that well,” I admitted sheepishly.

 

“Feathers, schmeathers,” Donald snickered, clutching his belly. “You can't draw at all.”

Our laughter echoed into the evening.


End file.
